An Unacceptable Arrangement (2 page)

Cassandra had looked around at all the girls
arrayed like flowers in their colorful gowns, each one prettier
than the next. Each had a dance card dangling from her wrist and
hers was already filled. She’d caught more than one eager swain
trying to write his name in for more than one dance but she’d
scolded them, playfully shaking her finger and waggling her head no
as she’d implored them to be fair and let everyone interested have
a turn. There seemed to be many who were interested. She had even
caught the Prince of Wales himself looking in her direction on more
than one occasion.

There had been a wide variety of gentlemen in
attendance - old, young, tall, short, skinny and fat - most of whom
she knew or knew of. There was one gentleman in particular who kept
catching her eye. He was tall and handsome with a shock of brown
hair and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Her eyes were blue-grey
but his were as blue as the sky. There was something a bit...
military... about him. The girls quickly dubbed him The Mystery
Man.

When the music began her first dancing
partner was Viscount Whitney, the future Earl of Stafford. She
smiled at him as he began to whirl her around the floor. He was
small in stature but a good dancer, a strong lead, and she enjoyed
herself very much. She toyed with the idea of a husband who was a
good dance partner and would one day be an Earl. It seemed
promising.

After several turns around the dance floor –
and several more partners – she took advantage of a break in the
music to escape to the ladies room. The girls were all atwitter
with excitement. Her closest friend Nanette grabbed her elbow and
the two girls squealed. This was their first adult evening and
their heads were whirling with the attention.

“Did you see who I last danced with?” Nanette
asked.

“Yes, wasn’t that one of the Wimbledon
boys?”

“He’s a second son but very handsome. I quite
like him,” Nanette replied.

Cassandra, being more sensible than her
foolish friend, admonished her, “Keep your options open, Nanette.
Don’t give your heart to anyone you meet here tonight. Let yourself
be pursued. The cream will rise to the top.”

Nanette nodded but her thoughts were clearly
elsewhere. Cassandra sighed; this was not a time in life to make
foolish decisions. Much rested on making a good match this
all-important year. It was crucial to not be on the marriage mart
for too long. Even with a pristine reputation, one could not help
looking picked over after a couple of years. Also, to jump into
marriage with someone who did not stand to inherit – what would be
the point? Life would always be a struggle.

There was a lot of gossip about who had
danced with whom and which men were the best catches. Cassandra
smiled serenely and refused to join in. She wasn’t as man crazy as
some of the girls. She knew that as the daughter of a Duke, she
would make a good match. It didn’t hurt that she was small and
curvaceous with ginger curls. No one in particular had caught her
fancy, and she was determined not to give her heart away to just
anyone. She would choose carefully - a man who was well
established, who was in love with her – that was the important
thing. He should also have a kind face and a genteel manner. She
didn’t want some coarse, caveman type. She also didn’t want someone
who had a temper. She was hotheaded like her father and she needed
the balance of a levelheaded man who thought before he acted. With
this laundry list of necessary qualities swirling in her head, she
headed back out to the dance floor.

Her mother was seated to the side along with
the other chaperones. She walked over and sat beside her.

“What do you think, dear? Do any of the
gentlemen catch your eye?” her mother sweetly inquired.

“That’s not important, Mother. What counts is
who I am catching the eye of. I will then choose whom I wish to wed
out of my admirers.” Her mother sighed and sweetly smiled at her.
Her Cassandra – such a focused, logical young woman and, like all
virgins, rather unforgiving in her outlook. They all thought they
knew everything.

Cassandra looked over at the men gathered to
one side of the ballroom. Just then she saw the blue-eyed mystery
man watching her. She was curious about him; if he was interested
why hadn’t he signed up for a dance? He didn’t seem to be dancing
with anyone really, just standing there watching. She leaned over
to ask her mother if she knew who he was but just then the music
started and her next partner was bowing to her, his hand extended.
It was Peter Hawthorne, the widowed Duke of Crandon – tall, blond
and bland, but he would make a very good catch. There would be
quite an age difference, though there were advantages to marrying
one who had already inherited. Would she consider that much of an
older man? He had to be at least fifty. She would have to defer to
her parent’s wisdom on a matter such as that. She spoke to him as
they whirled about the dance floor. There was sadness in his eyes
that made her want to cheer him up.

“Tell me, my Lord, are you enjoying
yourself?”

“Rather so my dear, although I have been to
several of these balls before. But you, this is your first, are you
enjoying it?”

She liked that he thought of her and not just
of himself. “Yes, very much sir, thank you for asking.” She tried
to remember when his wife had died. Three years ago or was it four?
He should be ripe to take another.

Just then someone tapped him on the shoulder
and she gasped when she realized who it was. The Crown Prince
himself was cutting in, asking for a dance! She flushed as the Duke
bowed and placed her hand in the Prince’s. What a coup! She glanced
at the other girls; all in her vicinity were staring enviously. She
curtseyed to His Majesty and then they began to dance.

The evening became a blur after that, as one
charming fellow after another swirled her around the dance floor.
Some were neither attractive nor good dancers but she didn’t hold
that against them. She was looking for qualities in a mate that
were more substantial than handsome features or gracefulness. She
didn’t feel a bit tired; she could have danced all night! Some of
the girls had sat out some of the dances but her dance card was
full. She had only sat down that once when she had spoken briefly
to her mother.

All too soon the final dance was playing.
When the Prince of Wales cut in again, she almost swooned. Two
dances and the final one yet! Had he danced with anyone else twice,
she wondered? She focused on him, really paying attention. His name
was Albert and he was tall enough and a tad bit portly. He was
somewhat handsome and had a certain dignity about him. He was a
more than adequate dancer.

Her brother Hayden was already engaged to a
cousin of the queen. Wouldn’t it be amazing if two of her parent’s
children married into the royal family? She smiled up at him and
when the dance ended, she curtseyed deeply. He bowed to her and
kissed her hand. Her cheeks flushed a bright pink and then people
were surrounding her and her mother was leading her to the
cloakroom.

Mother and daughter chatted excitedly all the
way home in the carriage. The evening had been a huge success, they
both agreed. Cassandra felt that her future was limitless. Her
mother tucked her into bed that night imploring her to settle down
and rest. “A young lady needs her beauty sleep, darling. You have
many balls and parties to get through over the next few months.
Getting your rest has to be a priority.”

Cassandra looked up at her with shining eyes.
“I promise to go right to sleep, Mother but it’s all just so
exciting, isn’t it?” Her mother blew her a kiss as she turned down
the gas lamp and exited the room. Cassandra hugged herself with
excitement but all that dancing caught up with her. She quickly
fell asleep dreaming of charming princes and fairytale castles.

The next morning
Cassandra had slept in as her father held an important meeting in
his study. Lord Arthur Newblythe was entertaining a most unexpected
caller, Frederic Von Dresden, the Crown Prince of Bavaria. Sir
Frederic, as he preferred to be called, had extensive business
dealings in England, several of them with Arthur himself.

Frederic had been to the house before. He had
attended a hunt there the previous summer and been also entertained
at tea by Lord and Lady Newblythe. He had not met the Newblythe
offspring, but had seen two of them - Hayden at the hunt and
Cassandra briefly attending her mother as he arrived for tea. He
knew there were others - a younger son away at school, and a couple
of small daughters still in the nursery. Cassandra had not looked
in his direction; it was a business tea and there had been a
roomful of attendees. But he’d been taken by her nonetheless.

She was a beautiful girl with long strawberry
curls and a porcelain complexion who seemed very close to her
mother. He had never seen so fine a face and form before and had
been so overcome by the brief glance of her that he had put his
hand to his face, ashamed that she might see the pock marks there.
He had suddenly felt very ugly in her presence. He’d turned away
and avoided being introduced.

When he’d seen her a year later formally
turned out for the debutante ball, for a moment he hadn’t even been
sure she was Arthur’s daughter. But then she had sat with her
mother briefly, so he was certain it was the young Lady Newblythe.
She had matured since last he’d seen her; she had an elegance of
comportment that made her stand out from the rest of the young
ladies and her figure had filled out quite nicely. He had once
again been overwhelmed at her sheer loveliness. She had a face that
he could look upon forever.

He could tell much from watching her as she
danced with her various partners. Her beauty had drawn many an
admirer, even the Crown Prince himself. Her eyes twinkled with good
humor as she chatted with her dance partners and she was kind and
patient with each, even those who weren’t very good dancers.
Various young ladies slipped off with their admirers for stolen
kisses on the veranda, but not Cassandra. Her high spirits and
virtue were in evidence as she scolded those young men who
attempted to become too familiar. Frederic realized that he did not
want to chance losing this rare prize by allowing her to attend any
more of these events. He wished to keep her for himself.

Frederic had been shocked at his own
reaction. Many females had pursued him in his country. His title
and his fortune, not to mention his land holdings that included a
picturesque castle that looked like something in a fairy story, had
made him a very eligible bachelor. He was even considered good
looking by most and his military exploits were legendary. But
around the young Lady Cassandra he had suddenly felt most
unattractive and unworthy.

Frederic had avoided marriage despite being
pursued by so many. He felt the male should do the pursuing and he
very much wished to find a wife who would come to know and love him
for himself, not for his social standing or family fortune. He had
purposely kept a low social profile during his European travels and
business dealings; very few knew his true identity. One of those
few was the man who was currently sitting across from him, his
Lordship Arthur Newblythe.

“What brings you here, Sir Frederic?” Arthur
nervously asked. Arthur was stout and graying, his once bright red
hair fading to a light silver. He was well aware that the man
sitting across from him could buy or sell him in the blink of an
eye. Arthur had first gone into business with the Prince when he’d
ventured into railroads, a most successful investment. Their
finances were now inextricably linked as they’d then branched out
with their profits and opened various businesses together. Staying
on good terms with Sir Frederic was crucial and had the potential
to ultimately be highly lucrative.

“Actually, this is not a business matter my
good man; it is personal,” Frederic replied. Arthur leaned back,
shocked into silence. Frederic, despite being German through and
through, had been schooled in England and spoke with almost no
accent at all. There was no mistaking his intent. “I was at the
debutante ball last night.”

“Ah,” Arthur responded, “Looking over the new
crop of marriageable young ladies, I take it. Are you in the market
for a wife?”

“Actually, I am Sir.” He looked intently at
Arthur, wondering how long it would take him to realize that the
object of his interest was his own daughter Cassandra.

Arthur chuckled and replied, “Well the
British do produce the most beautiful young women in the world.
English roses, we call them. You can’t go wrong with a properly
raised young noblewoman. My own daughter Cassandra was there last
night. Did you see her? She is small and has long ginger curls and
wore a blue dress.”

Frederic tried manfully to keep from smiling.
Arthur, while a shrewd businessman, apparently could be a bit slow
on the uptake concerning social matters. “Yes, Lord Newblythe, in
fact that is why I am here.” His voice trailed off as he watched
Arthur’s reaction. Arthur’s eyes widened and he sat up straighter.
His old friend and business associate was starting to understand
the purpose of this meeting.

“Cassandra, my Cassandra... you are
interested in her as a possible wife?” Arthur’s cheeks colored and
his eyes glazed over as he tried to imagine the possibility of the
Prince becoming his son-in-law. Oh this was a dream come true! To
have their families forever joined together by marriage - why it
was too good to be believed!

Arthur had been shocked into silence and so
Frederic did the talking. “I have searched for a very long time to
find a young woman I would consider marrying. It is time to take a
wife and begin to build a family. But all of the young women who
know who I am.... Well, they are frequently greedy and
self-serving. They and their mamas, striving for social standing
and financial security. They could not even tell you if they were
interested in me or the security I represent. I am not interested
in marrying for those reasons. I wish to find a wife who could
learn to love me for myself, one who has not been apprised of my
title or wealth. Have you ever spoken of me to your daughter?”